


Molto Subito

by ReChan



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst with a Happy Ending, Humor, M/M, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22206586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReChan/pseuds/ReChan
Summary: After the car accident that killed Glenn his senior year, Felix wants nothing to do with his previous life. He's left behind friends, family and even his passion for music to attend Garreg Mach University. After meeting Sylvain, however, his life gets turned upside down as he finds himself getting dragged into the redhead's band.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is me biting the bullet and writing my first fanfiction ever. I had this idea stuck in my head so, here we are. I hope you stick around to enjoy it! Thanks to my friend Tom for listening to me rant about this story. Also thanks to the Sylvix discord for giving me the push I needed to write this. 
> 
> Chapter Synopsis: 
> 
> Felix meets and idiot named Sylvain. Annette hears him vent.

Every day starts off like clockwork, a routine that might as well be carved in stone. Regardless of whether it’s a weekday or the weekend, Felix gets up at 6:00 am – a run, followed by a shower, breakfast and the first set of pills he has to take for the day. Usually, class follows soon after. He thought moving out and living on his own would throw him off at first, but he’s thrived instead, much to his relief. It’s one more thing he can throw in his old man’s face, that he doesn’t need his help like the man had initially thought.

Rodrigue’s tone had been careful, almost hesitant. Annoying. “Are you sure you don’t want to go somewhere closer to home? You got into Faerghus University, they have a good –”

“I already told you, old man. I’m leaving.” His tone had been clipped, marked with finality, the same way it had been every time they’d had this conversation.

“I'd rather be close by just in case you need help,” Rodrigue had sighed. Felix hadn’t dignified his words with a response, only a glare.

At the moment, he found a good amount of satisfaction in proving his father wrong, until he remembered that the old man was still paying his rent. Well, he’ll have his full independence soon if he gets his way. If everything turns out exactly how he wants it to, he’ll never run into anyone he knew Fhirdiad ever again.

Before leaving his small apartment, he checks the calendar pinned to his wall and examines the different colored marks. He’d always preferred keeping his reminders on physical paper. There was something about using his phone for task management that he dislikes for no particular reason. In any case, there was nothing due today or in the next few days – school related or otherwise. There’s only a note with a small happy face and flowers next to it that says _lunch with Annette_.

So far, she’s the only person at Garreg Mach he can tolerate for more than a few minutes. They don’t share any classes, so she makes a it a point to see him at least once a week, and as much as he pretends not to, he enjoys spending time with her. Lunch today might not be so bad.

-

He’s ten minutes early to his morning class and is annoyed to see someone already sitting in his usual spot, asleep on the cool surface of the desk. What’s more, it’s three weeks into the semester and he’s never seen this guy step foot in this class. He’d remember a mop of red hair like that. With a scoff, he settles for the seat right beside the stranger and waits patiently for the professor to come in.

History has never been his favorite subject, but the core curriculum demands that he take it and as a student with an undecided major, he might as well get these classes out of the way. And so, he listens to the professor drabble on about medieval plagues. It’s only towards the end of the class that he begins to pay any attention at all, as soon as the professor mentions the word _assignment_.

“… as is stated on your syllabus, this essay is worth 40% of your grade and replaces the final exam. You will be placed in pairs and will choose a royal line and time period and analyze the sociopolitical landscape. I expect anywhere between 40 and 45 pages.” There’s a collective groan from the entire class, only made worse by the phrase _due in three weeks._ He shifts to the next slide on his PowerPoint presentation to reveal a list of names – their assigned partners for this. Honestly, Felix would rather have an extra week and do this on his own. He wonders who his partner is.

"Felix Fraldarius... Hey, you know who that is?"

There it is. Felix's answer. The redhead next to him was Sylvain Gautier - his partner for the next three weeks or so. Fantastic. He gets probably the laziest person in the class thrown onto him. Now he has to write a 40-page essay in three weeks by himself, he can just feel it.

"That would be me," he answers dryly.

A smile spreads across Sylvain’s features, and it only takes a few seconds for Felix to notice that there’s something… off about it. "Oh great, that saves me a lot of trouble. I'm Sylvain, nice to meet you?" He extends his hand, expecting Felix to take it. Reluctantly and with a frown, he does.

"Charmed." He can't help the sarcasm that drips from his tone.

Despite seeming to notice the redhead - Sylvain's - smile doesn't falter. "Come on! We've gotta work together, right? Might as well try to get along,"

Felix doesn't dignify that with a response. Again, Sylvain is nonplussed.

"So! Wanna meet tomorrow and get this started? I can do 3 or 4 is that works. If not, how's Saturday?"

Felix considers for a moment. He has his appointment with Manuela tomorrow around noon. She's always fickle with her schedule, sometimes early, sometimes late. He should be done before 4, though. The trouble would be the 40-minute commute to campus afterwards. He could do Saturday, but honestly, he doesn't feel like spending one of the few free days he has with this guy. Besides, the sooner he gets this over with, the better. He has one other option.

"Could you come to my apartment downtown?" He offers.

Sylvain looks surprised for a moment but nods. "Sure, I can do that. I'll give you my number and you can send me your address," he says.

Felix nods and hands over his phone. He isn't entirely comfortable with having a stranger at his place, but if it saves him from an inconvenience, so be it. The lesser of two evils. Besides, it's not like there will be a repeat of this, he tells himself.

"There, all done! See you tomorrow," he says, handing Felix back his phone and having the audacity to wink at him before he turns around and heads down the hall.

Felix looks at the new contact in his phone and holds back a grimace.

_Sylvain :D Gautier_

Yeah, this'll be a long three weeks.

-

Annette waves at him, trying to get his attention at the overly crowded dining hall. Going somewhere off campus would have been easier, but unlike him, Annette has meal plan money to spend. With his tray in hand, he heads over to the spot she’s saved for them.

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” she says as she sits.

He rolls his eyes. “You say that every time.”

“Well, not _every_ time. Just the ones where you’re late,” she says.

“I’m not late.” He is. Only by five minutes, but he is. Loathe as he is to admit it, the history project has him in a bad mood. He found himself wandering around campus to try and take the edge off and lost track of time.

Annette sighs fondly. “Whatever you say. Anyways, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” he replies simply. He takes three pills from his backpack and downs them with a glass of water. Much to his relief, Annette has never asked what they’re for. That’s one of the reasons he likes her – she doesn’t pry. At least not when it comes to anything serious.

“As always, you’re a pleasure to have a conversation with. Hey, have I told you about this girl I met? Her name’s Mercedes. She’s really sweet. I think you’d like her, she’s a junior in the nursing school, but she’s my TA for bio. Hey, are you paying attention?” She waves a hand in front of his face. “Hello?”

“Yes,” he says.

“Yes what?”

“Yes to whatever you were saying,” he adds.

“Oh really? What was I saying?” She asks, eyes narrowed.

“Something about nursing?”

She considers his answer for a moment. There’s something about her scrutinizing look that makes him think that she sees right through him. “Hmmmmm. You’re in a bad mood.”

And there it is. In the few weeks they’ve known each other, she’s already picked up how to read him. There’s no use in answering or brushing her off. Part of him doesn’t even want to. _Maybe I just need to vent._

“You can tell me,” she says, her gaze softening.

“I got partnered with an absolute idiot for an essay worth almost half my grade.”

“Oh yeah, that’ll do it. I had tons of those in high school.” She nods sympathetically.

“Three weeks and I’m going to have to do this entire thing on my own,” he grumbles. Yes, they’re meeting tomorrow, but he already expects Sylvain to derail the entire purpose of it and distract him with inane conversations for three to four hours.

“But hey! Maybe he won’t be so bad. You could make a new friend,” she suggests.

“I doubt it. What’s even in this?” He steals the pudding cup right from her hand and stares at the label.

“Hey! Give it back!”

He intentionally keeps it out of her reach.

“This is a one-way ticket to diabetes, you should top eating these.” Still, he lets her have it back.

“Awww, you care about me. Oh! Shit, I’m late. Sorry I have to cut this short, I have a meeting, sort of,” she explains. She gives him a kiss on the cheek as a goodbye and heads off – much like before with Sylvain – before he can say anything. Odd as that is, he doesn’t pay much mind to it and finishes his meal peacefully on his own.

-

He dreads today. He really does. He has a feeling that Manuela will be later than she usually is and then there’s _Sylvain._ He wishes he could fast-forward to tomorrow. Maybe for once he can stay in bed today and ignore the rest of the world. He could call Manuela and say he feels sick. Scratch that, the woman is insane enough to come here and knock down his door. With a sigh, he gets out of bed to start his daily routine.

It’s about 3:30 when he gets back to his apartment. He still has a little while. In other words, he has half an hour to make a dent in his research and get started before his afternoon gets derailed. No time for stalling. He has enough discipline to at least do that. He logs into GMU’s online catalogue and gets about 20 minutes in before his bell rings.

“Hey! I’m on time, right?” He asks as Felix lets him into the apartment.

“Yeah, you’re fine.”

Eyes full of curiosity, Sylvain scans his apartment with little trace of shame. He whistles, somehow impressed by the small one-bedroom space. To be fair, Felix has decorated it nicely and keeps it clean. “Wow, you have a nice place. Beats living in the dorms,” he says.

“I suppose.”

“Then again, your commute must be a pain in the ass. You have to get up really early to make it to history,” he adds. He’s moved on to pace towards his kitchen. Thanks to the apartment’s _open concept,_ as the realtor had put it, he can still see Sylvain from where he’s sitting.

“I’m used to it,” he replies absently.

“You’re not much for conversation, are you?”

“Not when I have something to do,” he answers. It’s clearly something between a jab and a way to try and get them started on this thing. Instead, Sylvain lets out a chuckle.

At that moment, something catches his eye. He moves towards one of the counters with purpose and Felix already knows what he’s seen. He clenches his teeth and gets up.

“Oh, what’s with the pharmacy over? Hey, any of these Adderall?” He asks. He has the audacity to pick up one of the bottles and examine the label. Quickly as he can, Felix tears it from his hand.

“Keep your hands to yourself. That’s none of your business, you fucking asshole,” he seethes, eyes narrowed. This was a bad idea, but then again, he already knew that. He just didn’t expect it to go downhill in the first five minutes.

“Ok, I deserved that. Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I just – sorry,” he says, nervous and, well, genuine as far as Felix can tell. “Look, let me start over.”

“What?” He asks, anger momentarily replaced by confusion. The underlying annoyance he’s had since Sylvain walked in, though? That’s still there.

The aforementioned redhead walks towards the entrance and closes the door behind him. A few seconds later, Felix hears a knock.

“Hi, I’m Sylvain Gautier, it’s a pleasure to meet you and I look forward to working with you,” he says as soon as Felix opens the door. “I also promise to keep my hands to myself and mind my own business.”

Felix rolls his eyes, but the anger surprisingly fades and is replaced by… something. “I – fine, come back in,” he says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’ve never stepped foot in this apartment,” Sylvain says, a nonchalant smile playing on his features. Felix cocks an eyebrow at him but lets him be for now.

“Fine, lets get started. I already have some research, if you want to take a look at it. If not… I don’t know take your laptop out and do whatever.”

“I’m shocked that you think I’d be a deadbeat partner,” Sylvain says as he takes a seat and reaches for Felix’s laptop.

“Well, you hadn’t stepped a foot in class once since the semester started,” he says, typing in the password. The multiple tabs are open on his browser, each relating to a different member of a royal family line long since erased from the world.

“Hey, that’s not true! I went the first day,” Sylvain refutes.

Right. The first day of class – coincidentally the only one he’s missed, thanks to a brief scare that landed him in the ER for most of the day.

“Besides, there’s no reason to go. It’s not like they take attendance,” he adds.

Felix rolls his eyes. “Right, because it’s not like you need the material to study or anything.”

“Exactly, you get it.” He doesn’t. He has no idea how Sylvain will get the other 20% he needs to pass. Then again, that’s not his problem. “Still, if you do have some Adderall on your hands…”

“What Adderall? I thought you said you’d never been here,” Felix says, a small smirk playing at his features as proof of a forgiven faux pas. What possessed him to joke about it, he doesn’t know.

Sylvain laughs and smiles back at him, this one different from the ones he’d seen before, this one actually reaching his eyes. It clicks that that was what was off. His smile seemed like something practiced and worn unconsciously. He decides that he likes this one better.

“I’m making myself some coffee. Do you, I don’t know, want anything?” He asks. It’s common courtesy, drilled into him by his father at a young age and one of the few things that actually stuck.

“I’ll have some coffee, too.”

They stay in silence, not quite comfortable but not entirely awkward either. To Felix’s surprised, Sylvain seems invested in what he’s reading, so much so that he doesn’t lift his gaze from the screen as he takes a sip of the drink Felix placed in front of him. Instantly, he grimaces and coughs.

“How can you drink this? No milk? Sugar?”

“I’m not going to go fix it for you. If you want coffee, drink it as is.” And that’s as far as his courtesy goes.

Sylvain’s disappointment is clear in his frown, but Felix won’t budge. Realizing this, Sylvain goes back to reading, musing to himself out loud and taking the occasional note before his eyes wander off to the other side of the room.

“Hey, you play?” Sylvain asks, motioning to the guitar sitting in the corner of the room – and old Les Paul that Felix couldn’t bear to part with when he left home. _Home_. Such a strange thing to call that place. “Right, too many questions,” Sylvain amends.

“No.”

“Hm?”

“You asked whether I played. I didn’t, I used to sing.” Felix elaborates. The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them, like water leaking through an old dam. 

Sylvain’s eyes widen. “Like… in a band?” His tone is dazed, almost… hopeful?

“Yes?” He’s almost startled when Sylvain slams his hands on the table.

“Join my band.”

“What?”

“Join my band!”

“No, why the hell would I do that?” He asks. The very idea is appalling.

“Come on! We need a lead singer,” he insists.

“You barely know me. Besides, you haven’t even heard me sing. My voice could be shit for all you know.”

“You don’t seem like the type of guy who’d like about this sort of thing. Besides, you said you used to be in a band, right? That means you have experience.” Sylvain is doing his best to show his reasoning. While the point is somewhat valid, it’s superficial. If this guy has a band, what’s to say Felix will even get along well with the other members? Hell, what’s to say he’ll get along with the man in front of him?

“I - no, I’m not looking to join a band, so drop it.”

“Nope, can’t do that,” he says simply.

“You know I could just kick you out of my apartment,” he says.

“But you won’t,” Sylvain counters.

“And why’s that?”

“You want to get this project done as much as I do.”

Ok, fair. He’s right. “You’re insufferable. If I say I’ll think about it, can we get back to why we’re here?”

“That depends, are you actually going to think about it or are you just saying that to shut me up?” Sylvain asks. Cocky bastard.

“…”

“Thought so. I’ll get back to work, but please think it over? You don’t have to join right away, just come by one of our practice sessions. You’ll like the rest of the band, promise!” His tone is pleading and if Felix has an accurate read on him, he won’t drop this. He might stop asking today, but he’ll bring the subject back up, he’s sure.

“Are they as annoying as you are?”

“Now you’re just being mean,” he says, exaggeratedly offended. Felix rolls his eyes.

“… I’ll… think about it. Maybe,” he settles for saying.

“I think that’s as good an answer as I’m gonna get,” Sylvain smiles. He’s rocking the chair back and trying to balance a pen between his nose and upper lips. It’s only a moment later that the chair tumbles back onto the floor.

Yeah. He’s an idiot. But maybe working with him won’t be so bad.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix gets tricked. No one can say no to Annette.

It was about a week into the semester that Felix learned that there’s no such thing as an inconspicuous building at GMU. Old as it is, the university chose to preserved its style of gothic architecture as it kept adding more of them to its campus. The building Sylvain told him to meet him at is no different – tall spires, elaborate arches and high towers. He frowns, standing at the entrance and glaring at the wooden doorway like would somehow come to life and find him intimidating. Why is this more difficult than it should be? It’s just some stupid project. It’ll be over in a couple of weeks and then he’ll never have to talk to Sylvain again. He can go back to pretending that the charming redhead in his history class doesn’t exist. Except, maybe he doesn’t want to do that and fears that after this is over, he won’t have an excuse to talk to him again. Maybe he’ll be the one that gets ignored. Pathetic. It’s stupid. He barely knows the guy. They’ve only interacted a few times. A few times where he’s felt more at ease than he has in almost a year. 

He shakes his head and with a sigh, he slips inside the building as someone exits and heads to the third floor to room 312. He’s not sure if he takes the stairs for the exercise or to delay the inevitable, but once he’s in front of the door he rips off the band-aid and steps in without a second thought. 

He hears it before he sees it – the all-too-familiar sound of a guitar being tuned, of someone testing out a rhythm on a set of drums and someone else idly strumming a bass. Once he opens the door, he immediately sees Sylvain at the forefront of the room, guitar over his lap as he tests out the tone. Across from him is a boy with freckles and silvery hair that he doesn’t recognize. 

“Hey!” Sylvain calls out with a casual smile.

Felix kicks himself, knowing he was too busy lamenting himself to notice that every other person coming through those cursed doors was carrying some sort of instrument. Hindsight is a bitch. 

“You tricked me,” he deadpans, arms crossed in front of him and eyes narrowed at Sylvain.

“Yes,  _ but _ in my defense, you wouldn’t have come here if I hadn’t,” he has the audacity to say. He’s smiling that charming smile of his, the one that makes Felix simultaneously angry and weak. In this situation, it’s the former more than the latter. For a moment, he stands in silent consideration. 

“I'm leaving,” he settles for saying.

“No, wait!”

“Annette?” His question is punctuated by the sound of crashing cymbals and a falling bench. 

Among the wreck is the small girl, quickly scrambling to get back up and make her way towards Felix. He’s taken aback by the way she looks at him – equal parts determined and pleading. How she manages such a look is beyond him. 

“Please stay,” she says, her tone firm. 

“I didn’t know you were in a band,” he says, looking over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of an amused Sylvain. 

“Well… you never asked and now you know!” She says defensively. 

Felix furrows his brow. “Why would I ask something that specific?” 

“Well –” 

"Annette writes all of our songs," Sylvain chimes in. 

She takes the opportunity he’s given her to steer the conversation back to its original point. "And I've never had anyone sing the lyrics and I really really  _ really _ want to and if I'd known you sing, I would've asked you before but I'm asking you now so please please  _ please _ -"

"Fine! Fine, I'll... give it a shot. Hand me the sheet music or something." He presses his fingers to his temple. He’s annoyed. There’s no way he can refuse Annette, not when she gives him that pout and wide-eyed look. Sylvain has set up a trap – a gamble – and it’s paying off. He doesn’t need to look over to the other corner of the room to know that there’s a pleased look across his face. He hears the other boy – the one with silver hair – snickering as he fixes the drum set.

“Yes!” Annette cheers and immediately goes to her backpack, discarding several pages of notes before pulling out what she was looking for and handing it over to Felix. There’s victory written all over her face.

Felix grunts and all but tears the sheet from her grip. The silence in the room is filled with expectation. To say that he’s uncomfortable with all of their eyes focused on him is an understatement. He's surprised to find that he isn't rusty at all. Reading the notes written on the piece of paper comes as naturally to him as reading the words off of the pages of a book. What's more, the song is good, something he could easily picture a professional band playing.

“I’m Ashe, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Sylvain spoke very highly of you,” the other boy interrupts, hand extended for Felix to shake. 

“Felix,” he says, returning the handshake. “But I’m sure you already knew that.” Once again, he shoots a derisive look at Sylvain, who seems completely unaffected. 

"Why haven't you tried singing these yourself?" He asks absently as he shifts his attention back to the written song.

"I, uh... we tried that once," she answers. 

"Annette has a good voice but, uh..." Ashe elaborates. 

Sylvain clears his voice. "We got someone temporary to play the drums for a gig at one of the small concert halls around here. You know, like one of those things were lots of amateur bands play in one night? Anyways-" 

"She forgot the lyrics. Massive case of stage fright. Worst show we've played to date. Sorry, Annie." Ashe looks at her sheepishly. 

“Don’t be, it’s not like you’re lying.”

"And that usually doesn't happen because...?"

"The drums are big and they're way in the back!!" At that, Felix can’t help but let out a laugh. 

“Hey! Don’t make fun of me, it’s true! I get along fine if no one sees me.” 

Felix can understand that, to some extent. He remembers the first time he sang in public. It was his first year of high school. Loathe as he was to admit it, he’d been a nervous wreck, only kept together by Glenn’s – as soon as the thought comes to mind, he pushes it back before it can take hold of him. He shakes his head. He’s past that. Yet the way his heart beats in his chest tells him otherwise. 

“So, do you want me to sing this or what?” He mutters. 

“Alright, you heard the man. Time to get started,” Sylvain says. Just like that, the mood in the room shifts completely, in a way Felix doesn’t quite know what to think of or how to react to. It feels familiar and entirely different at the same time. It makes his chest feel tight. Instead of thinking about it any further, he places the sheet on a stand in front of the microphone. 

Hesitantly, he takes a deep breath. He tries to pretend that the people in the room aren’t there, that the music is coming from an intangible source. 

_ Here goes nothing.  _

He lets his voice drift over the music, synchronize with it. The lyrics flow from him naturally, instinctively. He barely has to look at the sheet music. To him, it’s almost like breathing. For a moment, he forgets that anything else exists. He lets the rush of music fill him, wash over him and take control of him. He gives a name to the strange feeling in his chest. It’s nostalgia. He missed this. 

-

He gets a text from Sylvain a few hours later and isn’t sure whether or not he wants to open it. He lets it sit on his phone for a few minutes before the giddy feeling in his stomach gets the better of him. He grits his teeth and snarls at his phone like it’ll somehow react, maybe automatically send a message to Sylvain telling him to fuck off. Except that’s the last thing he wants to say to him. He feels like an idiot, more so when he sees that smiley face next to Sylvain’s name, the one he hasn’t deleted for whatever reason.  _ It’s endearing _ , he hears a voice in the back of his head say. 

Sylvain :D Gautier: sooooo what did you think of practice?

The text is simple enough. He thinks for a moment, tapping his finger against the hardened wood of his desk as he meditates on his answer. 

Me: It was alright. 

Sylvain :D Gautier: what do you mean alright?! 

Sylvain :D Gautier: it was great

Sylvain :D Gautier: you know it

Sylvain :D Gautier: I know it

Sylvain :D Gautier: we all know it

Felix grimaces at the sudden barrage of text messages. 

Me: It wasn’t bad, but I’m not sure this is for me. 

Sylvain :D Gautier: why? 

Sylvain :D Gautier: you looked like you were having fun

Sylvain :D Gautier: and I was right

Sylvain :D Gautier: your singing voice is amazing!! 

It seems Sylvain prefers sending a shit ton of messages at a time instead of using punctuation like a normal person. Felix types several phrases and deletes them immediately.  _ It’s complicated. It brings back bad memories. You were seeing things.  _ He settles for something else. 

Me: It’s just not my thing anymore. I grew out of it. 

Sylvain :D Gautier: :(

Sylvain :D Gautier: you sure?

Sylvain :D Gautier: you know… you’ll make Annette really sad if you say no

He’s right, but Felix is sure he can bear the disappointment. It’ll take her a few days to get over it, but she’ll move on and find someone else to fill in the open spot in her band. Besides, it’s not like he promised he’d join. He sang a couple of songs, that was it. He starts to type.  _ She’ll be fine.  _ He immediately hates how the words look on his screen. 

Sylvain :D Gautier: you’ll make me really sad too :( :(

Me: You’ll be fine. 

That he can easily type. 

Sylvain :D Gautier: no I won’t

Sylvain :D Gautier: I’ll die

Sylvain :D Gautier: you’re my only hope Felix 

Me: You’re insufferable. There are thousands of people on campus, I’m sure you can find one to join your band. 

Sylvain :D Gautier: can’t 

Sylvain :D Gautier: come ooon 

Sylvain :D Gautier: I know you had fun 

Sylvain :D Gautier: join

Sylvain :D Gautier: join join join 

Sylvain :D Gautier: join uuuusss 

Sylvain :D Gautier: joooooin uuuuuss

He tosses his phone on the bed and watches the screen light up incessantly. No, he's not doing this. Screw Annette. No, that's awful. Fuck Sylvain. Yes, better. He can live with that. He doesn’t need this in his life right now. He doesn’t need the baggage that comes with having to deal with the same people on a regular basis. So yeah, fuck Sylvain and also sorry Annette. 

Still, he can’t shake this feeling, an odd sensation in his core that he can’t quite name.  _ You had fun.  _ His phone keeps vibrating and lighting up. That's enough. Almost on reflex, he calls Sylvain. "Fine! Shut up. I'll join your stupid band now leave me alone." He has to make a conscious effort not to yell, mostly out of consideration for his neighbors, not so much for Sylvian. 

"Yes!" Sylvain celebrates. Felix can picture him grinning. For whatever reason, it makes him uneasy. "Practice is tomorrow at 4:00. I know you only take morning classes so no excuses. Also, lunch at 3:00 with the band. Gotta get to know each other, spend quality time, all that. I'll text you the details."

"Wh-" he doesn't give Felix a chance to refute anything he said. Great. At least this is another version of lunch with Annette? Sure enough, he'll find out tomorrow that it isn't.

-

He stands outside of the campus gates, waiting for the rest of the band to come. The cool autumn air surrounds him, telling him that winter is near. He’s glad that GMU is farther south from his hometown, allowing him to avoid the harsh cold up north. At the very least, it means the aches and pains that settle into his bones on cold days won’t be as bad.

From the corner of his eye, he spots someone headed towards him. To his surprise, it’s only Sylvain. The same unpleasant feeling that he gets around Sylvain spreads through his chest and stomach, heart skipping a beat. “I thought you said this was a  _ band thing _ ,” he says as soon as he knows that the man in question can hear him.

“It is! You and I are both members of the same band. That means this is a band thing,” Sylvain says. 

“What about Annette? And Ashe?” He asks, hoping that maybe he’s misunderstanding the situation. 

“Oh, Annette’s having lunch with someone else and Ashe has a crazy schedule during the week,” he explains. 

Felix’s eyes narrow. He realizes that he should have texted Annette. Again, hindsight comes to ruin his day. “You could have just said it was us two.”

“Would you have come?” Sylvain asks, head cocked to the side, hands in his pockets and looking as relaxed as ever. 

“…”

“Thought so. See, this is why I have to trick you into going places,” he says, having the audacity to wink at Felix. 

“You know, if someone doesn’t want to spend time with you, usually you take a hint and back off,” Felix grumbles. 

“You don’t want to spend time with me? Rude,” 

“I didn’t say that,” he mumbles. “But, to recap, you want to make it up to me for tricking me into going to your band practice-"

"Our band practice," he corrects. 

"Whatever. Our band practice by tricking me into going to lunch with you,"

"Yes. My treat, though," Sylvain says, as if that changes anything.

Felix sighs. "Alright, fine. Let's just get this over with."

"That's the spirit!" 

"Where are we even going?"

"There's this Mexican place off campus I thought you might like. You said you liked spicy food?"

He's surprised that Sylvain would remember something he said in passing like that. He feels heat rise to his cheeks.

"Yeah, that's fine," he says, looking away and fixing his scarf so it covers the lower half of his face. When he looks back, he spots the case in Sylvain’s hand. "What's with the portfolio?"

"Oh, this?” He asks, lifting it a little. “I just got out of life drawing."

"Studio art? Sounds like too much trouble for a core requirement,"

"Oh, it's not a requirement. I'm an art major," Sylvain says offhandedly. 

That... is unexpected. Looking at Sylvain, he never would have guessed he was the artistic type. "I assumed you were business or econ." 

"I am. Finance, to be specific." 

"That's an odd combination," Felix can’t help but point out. He wonders if he likes both things equally, if he has a plan or if one of them is more of an outside expectation. Then he quickly asks himself why he cares in the first place. 

"Maybe. You're still undecided, right?" Sylvain asks. 

Felix doesn't miss how he quickly changes the subject. So it was most likely the latter assumption. 

"I am," he answers. 

"So, any idea what you're major will be?"

"No. I'm undecided. It's in the name," Felix snaps. 

Sylvain laughs, unoffended by his biting tone. "Come on, don't get sassy. Most people have some idea at least."

Maybe if he had asked that question a couple of years ago, Felix might have been able to answer. Maybe it's some sort of mental block that prevents him from remembering what his aspirations used to be. As it stands, he doesn't have any, at least not career-wise. He doesn't see a point to it, given his circumstances. Unlike most people at GMU, he didn't come here to get an education, but to get as far away from his family and former friends as possible. He hadn't given much thought to what comes after. For all he cares, he can place the complete list of majors on a wheel, spin it and see where he lands. Felix Hugo Fraldarius, theology major – wouldn’t that be something. Felix shrugs instead and leaves it at that. 

“I guess you have some time to figure it out,” Sylvain says idly. 

"What do you think of GMU so far?" Sylvain asks. 

He suspects it's largely to fill the silence. He shrugs. "It's been alright." 

"I remember my first few weeks as a freshman. Well, sort of, you know, parties and bars every other day. Have you checked out any of the ones nearby?"

"No," he says simply.

"Really? If you don't have a fake, I know where you can get a good one," Sylvain offers. 

"No thanks. I don't drink," he says.

"Really? You're a college student, unsupervised probably for the first time and you don't drink?" Sylvain asks. 

"No, I don't." His tone doesn't leave any room for questions. He doesn't owe Sylvain any explanations.

"Alright, alright," he backs off. "Didn't mean anything by it. But hey, you can sti hang out at house parties."

"Haven't been to one," he grumbles.

Sylvain stops walking and turns to him, eyes wide and mouth hanging ajar. "What?!" Now he sounds like Felix just told him the sky is pink. "We're fixing this."

"No, we're not," Felix deadpans. He barely likes interacting with people as is. He's comfortable on his own, always has been. 

"We are!" He insists. "A couple of friends of mine are throwing a party on Saturday, it'll be fun, I promise!" 

There's a voice in his head that mimics Sylvain's words. It sounds surprisingly like Glenn's. 

Sylvain's eyes soften. "Look, if you don't like it, I'll pay for your uber back, deal?" 

"... fine," he agrees hesitantly. It's... not a bad offer, he supposes. If he decides he that the entire thing is a ridiculous waste of time - which he most certainly will - he can go back to his apartment.

While lunch goes smoothly - at least, as smoothly as anything involving Sylvain can go - there's a feeling he can't shake that sours his mood. He offers Sylvain his usual clipped responses, though for an entirely different reason, ruminating and sorting out his thoughts. He could say no to Sylvain, tell him to fuck off and say he'd rather face a hundred years of torture than go interact with a bunch of drunk morons he doesn't know. But he doesn't. For some reason, he doesn't.

The realization hits him like an incoming train. No, what he feels around Sylvain isn't uneasiness. It's not some gut feeling telling him to stay away, not some constant anger or annoyance. No, it's the opposite. The complete fucking opposite. He has feelings for Sylvain. Fuck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're enjoying the story so far! 
> 
> I thrive on feedback. All comments are welcome!

**Author's Note:**

> For every comment my dog gets a treat. Help make me and Jimmy happy.


End file.
